OMEGA CROWNED

The wind bit hard, slicing through Kaelin’s worn jacket as if the winter had claws. She didn’t flinch. Let it cut. Let it sting. The cold reminded her she was still here—still breathing—even when half the pack wished she wasn’t. The training field was nearly empty, just a scattering of warriors sparring in the frost. Kaelin stood alone on the far edge, hands wrapped, fists bloodied. Her knuckles were raw, her boots caked in frozen mud, and her arms ached from throwing punches at a wooden dummy that couldn’t bleed. She hit it again. Harder. “Still trying to prove you belong, Omega?” a voice sneered behind her. Kaelin didn’t turn. She didn’t have to. The smug tone, the heavy footfalls, the scent of arrogance soaked in cologne—it was Riven. Of course it was. “Shouldn’t you be off playing happy mate with your precious Lira?” she said flatly, her next punch landing with a satisfying c***k. “You’re bitter,” he said, stepping closer. “You still wear that mark like it means something.” His gaze flicked to her neck, where the faint ghost of a rejected bond still lingered beneath the skin—a pale crescent that had never fully faded. Kaelin wiped sweat from her brow. “No, Riven. I’m not bitter. I’m better.” He flinched, just slightly. Enough for her to see the flash of guilt—or maybe regret—in his amber eyes before he masked it with a smirk. “I made the right choice,” he said anyway, as if saying it out loud would make it true. “You’re not mate material. Never were.” Kaelin’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Then why are you still watching me?” She turned her back on him before he could answer. Let him stew. Let him choke on it. --- Edgewood Pack was a place that swallowed weak wolves and spat out bones. Alphas ruled here with iron claws, and omegas? They obeyed, mated young, bred fast, and kept their heads down. But Kaelin had stopped being a good little omega the day Riven rejected her. She’d bled in the training pits, outrun betas twice her size, and hunted alone in lands where rogues roamed. She didn’t want pity. She didn’t want anyone’s protection. She wanted place. Earned. Not given. So when the Alpha’s horn blew, signaling a mandatory assembly, Kaelin groaned. Another speech, probably. Or a public shaming. Maybe someone got caught sneaking into heat dens again. Either way, it meant a halt to her training, and a hundred cold stares she didn’t want. She jogged back toward the main grounds, tugging her jacket tighter. Her boots crunched over snow and cracked ice, past stone buildings and watchtowers etched with old, forgotten runes. The rest of the pack was already gathering in the square. Warriors in uniform. Betas lined up like statues. A few omegas in the back, heads low, eyes lower. Kaelin stood apart, as usual. She didn’t lower her gaze. Alpha Hark stood on the raised platform, looking more grizzled than usual. His gray beard twitched as he cleared his throat, voice booming over the crowd. “We have a guest arriving,” he said. “One who will not tolerate weakness. He expects discipline, obedience, and respect.” Murmurs rippled through the pack. Kaelin frowned. A guest? Then Hark said the name. “The Alpha King is on his way.” Silence. Thick and heavy. Someone gasped. Kaelin’s heart stuttered, just once. Theron Vael. The name echoed like thunder. Everyone knew of him—ruler of the Crown Pack, war-forged and blood-bound, unmatched in power. Some said he could tear a wolf apart with a thought. Others whispered he hadn’t taken a mate because none could survive his bond. “He will stay only briefly,” Hark continued. “And he will not be disturbed.” Yeah, sure, Kaelin thought. Because that ever works with Alphas. The assembly ended in tense whispers. Some wolves scrambled to clean up the grounds, others ran drills, and the omegas were told to hide in the dens. Kaelin didn’t move. Let the King come. She didn’t care about thrones or titles or rumors. The only crown she’d ever wear would be made of scars. --- Later that night, Kaelin stood on the edge of the forest, overlooking the long road leading into Edgewood. The moon was rising, cold and pale above the trees, and snow dusted the world in silver silence. Then she heard it—hooves. Not just one horse. A dozen. Maybe more. Torches appeared between the trees, glowing like fireflies in the dark. Riders emerged, cloaked in black and silver, bearing the insignia of the Crown Pack: a wolf howling before a blood moon. And at the center of them all, astride a massive black steed, rode him. The Alpha King. Kaelin stiffened. He didn’t wear a crown, but he didn’t need to. Power radiated off him in waves—thick, choking, commanding. His eyes, pale silver with a ring of gold, scanned the gathered wolves like they were prey. Her breath hitched when those eyes landed on her. He stopped. Kaelin’s blood ran cold. The world narrowed. Every instinct screamed for her to look away, to lower her head, to submit. She didn’t. Neither did he. And in that moment, something snapped inside her. Not like breaking. Like pulling. Like a bond. No. No, no, no— Fate doesn’t choose for me. But as Theron Vael dismounted and took a single step toward her, the truth hit Kaelin harder than any punch she’d ever taken. The Alpha King was her mate. And he had found her. ---